Don't Scream
by Phayzer
Summary: Screaming was nice. That was one of the reasons they didn't gag their victims. It would never cease to put a humorous smirk on their faces as the prey struggled to come up with an excuse to keep them living. *A One Shot of a dream I had. May continue. AU*


Screaming was nice.

That was one of the reasons they didn't gag their victims. Begging, shouting, crying, or even preying were some more. It would never cease to put a humorous smirk on their faces as the prey struggled to come up with an excuse to keep them living. To let them go. Sometimes the victims couldn't muster the strength to even say anything, just mumble gibberish in hopes it would mean something. The one restrained before them was a screamer.

A black haired man had his arms crossed over his bare chest as he leaned on the dark, brick wall of the large alleyway. The cold night air filled his lungs as he breathed in through his nose, his mouth occupied with a dry smirk.

Just in front of him was a smaller boy, a red vest that didn't get all it's color from the dye hung loosely on his form, being two sizes too big. His straw hat dangled by a warn string around his neck, moving as he pulled his arm back again. The clenched fist whipped back at alarming speed, making contact with another's face.

The victim would have cried out at the pain of his cheekbone being shattered, but all he could muster was a weak whimper and moan to come out of his dry, raw throat, and the movement of his bounded hands clenching. It wasn't the first blow to his body he had endured since he was taken from his home hours before, and punches and kicks weren't the only things they had done to make him cry out. In the end, all he could do was whimper.

The lack of sound didn't suit too well with the man leaning on the wall, though the well placed punch put a smile on the younger's face.

The man walked over to the 10-year-old, kneeling down to his height to put a hand on his shoulder. His hungry smirk changed to a warm smile as he spoke to his little brother.

"Good shot, Luffy," He started, the younger showed a spark of self-pride in his eyes at the words. "But try not to go for the head all the time." Luffy's smile deflated a bit, and he tilted his head.

"Why, Ace?" Luffy asked. The 20-year-old's smile never faltered.

"Well, if you hit a victim in the head to many times, it's more likely not to respond." Ace explained, pointing to the man bound to two poles to emphasize his point. Luffy still had a confused face at the explanation. Ace rolled his eyes. "It means it wont scream, numbskull." Luffy's eyes widened and he nodded his head.

"Oooh, I see." Luffy mused, and a smile returned. "I'll go for the stomach next time then." Ace patted Luffy on the head with a ruffle of his hair.

"That's my little brother." Ace smiled, using Luffy's head to push himself up. "But we're going to have to rap this season up, they will be here soon." As if on queue, sirens waked in the distance.

Luffy slumped his shoulders, facing the limp, tied up man. His once expensive suit now soaked in his own blood, as was his skin.

"Awwww, but I liked this one. It put up a fight..." Luffy wined, kicking up a rock with his bare foot as he stuck out a lip. Ace stretched his arms out with a crack before rustling Luffy's hair again.

"Yeah, the good ones always do." Ace admitted, also gazing at the victim as it shook. "But maybe the next one will be as well. You never know, Lu." Luffy still didn't make an attempt to move, and Ace put his mouth to Luffy's ear, speaking in a whisper. "I'll tell you what, me and Sabo will let you have the fist cut next time..." Luffy lifted his head with a smirk.

"Really?" Luffy asked, looking to his big brother in the corner of his eye. Ace straiten up again and motioned for Luffy to go.

"Only if you hurry up. Would hate for you to get burned." Luffy nodded, crawling through the hole in the fence leading out to the back of the buildings and a black filed. Ace shook his head at Luffy. Why did he have to grow so attached to them?

Ace drew his attention back to the body, now shaking harder and making the chains rattle. He walked over to the victim with a taunting look of faked sympathy.

"What's the matter all of a sudden?" Ace asked, kneeling down to the slumped head of the pathetic toy. The man's fists clenched as it took effort to even lift his head, but he managed to look at Ace.

"P-p-pleas..." He could just whimper out, the word a mere whisper. His eyes were watery, making the visible features of Ace in the night swim in his vision.

"Ooh, so _now_ you talk." Ace mused with a frown, tilting his head mockingly at the man, as if waiting for more sounds to come out. The man took in a hasty breath, the broken rids stabbing into his lungs making blood drool out of his mouth.

"L-l-let m-me go." He breathed, his arms shaking harder as his muscles threatened to give out. His whole body shook violently when all Ace did in response to his desperate plea, was smile.

"Is that all you've got?" Ace asked, and shook his head when met with no response. No response was possible in the man's eyes. His throat had given in, and the swelling in his face now made it imposable to move his jaw. The only thing his body could do was let tears snake down his face.

"How disappointing." Ace sighed, reaching for the knife attached to his belt. "I was hoping for an excuse, to be honest. You would be surprised what people come up with. What their reason is to live. Guess you don't have one." He pointed the knife just under the mans chin, forcing his head to rise until his eyes faced the moonless sky. The man let out a gargle as the blood in his mouth oozed to build up in his throat. "Shhhh." Ace hissed. "This works alot better if you look up." Ace faced upwards as well, though seemed to lean away from the victim as he looked to the roof of the tall building. "Ok, Sabo!" He yelled.

There was no response to Ace's shout, besides the sirens getting louder, there was no sound at all. Not even the thin, steel pole, whipping down from above as it let gravity take it to it's target's head mad a peep. That is until it hit, and the sounds of crunching bones and spitting blood filled Ace's ears, the metal going through the victim's mouth and coming out it's leg in a split second, the sharp end digging in to the dirt.

Ace didn't bother with taking a look back at the bloody corps as he walked towards the fence, a satisfying job well done was already noted. He did stop at the fence, however, holding out a hand. He held a flaming match in his fingers. He let it drop to the ground, not blinking as the already placed gunpowder trail let the flame roar and snake it's way to the dead being. It was in a second that the body's clothes ignited, filling the alley with bitter light, Ace not there anymore to see it.

People did get to view it, however, but the police did not like the fire show. The sergeant yelled for someone to call the fire brigade, sacrificing his own drink in hopes of helping to put it out, some of his underling following suit. Others with a weak stomach staying in their cars. They could still see the pole through the fire, sticking out if the man as it held him stationary. The cops mentally pitied the victim, and asked themselves what sick minded person would do such a thing.

"Sir!" An underling yelled to the sergeant, waving for his superior to come over. "I-I think it was them again...!" The sergeant carefully walked over, stopping next to the accusing man. The man pointed down when given a questioning look, and the sergeant followed his finger.

There, in the dirt of the alley going from the fence to the burning man, were three letters burned into the ground.

"A. S. L." The sergeant grimly whispered as he read, the victim making a flaming trophy of a full stop.

* * *

Hope you liked it. Reviews are always appreciated. :)


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